[He registers the intonation of what can only be described as... sorrowful. Knowing Arenvald's past, how he's lost those quite close to him before, the leap of logic isn't difficult to make.

And that, he thinks, makes something spike in that (not so) little collection of errors Connor keeps locked away. It feels unpleasant and cold -- it feels like guilt.]

I... all right. If that's what you want. Statistically, at least, that would be for the best.

[The last part is added on so half-heartedly, it's almost a wonder why he should say it at all. A deep frown, and Connor places a hand to brace against Arenvald's back, trying to help straighten him in the water.]

Are you able to swim? We need to get you back.